Promises Made Promises Kept
by Branswilliam Rochester
Summary: He had left her to the extravagance she had never longed for. He had left her with the useless factors that had tagged along with what she had really longed for. Him. But he would keep his promise. He always did. Narcissa/Lucius. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own anything here.

AN: This is my first attempt at a Narcissa/Lucius pairing. Be warned: it is extremely sad.

Promises were meant to be kept.

That's what promises were all about, wasn't it? Narcissa rolled over in her bed and buried her tear soaked face in her pillow and let out a heart wrenching cry. Her tears soaked the silk pillow case, her usually immaculate hair clumped with obvious signs of being clutched. She gasped for breath as more tears rushed down her pale face. Prying her swollen eyes open, dull blue orbs scanned the empty space next to her in the king sized bed. The pillow was still fluffed and the sheets perfectly pressed: obvious signs of disuse written all over it.

He had promised. He had promised to be with her through thick and thin. To be with her eternally.

Now subsiding to silent sobs, Narcissa tiredly sat up, running a frail, shaking hand through her hair. Trying to swallow her sobs, she stood up shakily and slowly walked to the door of the room, her eyes fixed before her. Her mind was numb. She didn't want to think.

Pulling the door open, she grasped the stair railway and descended the stairs slowly. She felt as if she were drifting; a nonentity of the mansion. She did not notice the Malfoy antique heirlooms, nor did she notice the portraits on the walls tutting at her as she passed. She was deaf to the criticism. She didn't notice that the flowers in the vases had been replaced, her mind only set on one purpose.

She continued her dazed walk through the parlor, then through the various hallways before coming to stop in front of the gallery. An exquisite silver emblem marked the doorway as she faltered a bit before the entrance. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she walked through the doorway and wandered through the marble sculptures in the exquisite gallery. She had come here for only one sculpture, but she chose not to go to it first as she ran her hand across the century's finest pieces. Greek gods and goddesses filled the room, the serene looks on their faces staring blankly back at Narcissa's resigned face.

She felt so lost. Even in her own home.

But was it even home without him?

Finding the room a bit drafty, despite the wine red cashmere that covered the walls, Narcissa hugged herself as she wandered the dozens of rows of sculptures. She stopped momentarily in front of Aphrodite's figure before turning away abruptly from it, as if looking at it too long would taint her.

Love only brought pain.

Picking up her pace, she turned to the opposite side of the gallery, oblivious of the classical music drifting through the air. Caccini's Ave Maria swept through the gallery as Narcissa once more paused; this time in front of a portion of the gallery sectioned off in the middle. All the Greek gods and goddesses were turned to face this middle altar.

Narcissa stared at the figurine before her, too numb to react. The cold, white marble could never portray the life of the figure it represented. She pulled out a hand to trace her fingers over the cold cheek of one Lucius Malfoy. The eyes stared bleakly out to a point behind Narcissa's right shoulder as her finger trailed down the cheek, then up to his forehead, trailing back down across the nose of the sculpture. Her hand followed the long hair and to the back of the neck of the sculpture. Tears welling in her eyes, she snatched her hand away from the sculpture. Walking purposefully to the ornate couch on the other side of the Malfoy figurine, she sat down stiffly, determined not to look at the traitorous portrayal.

He had promised, and he had broken it. He had left her to the extravagance she had never longed for. He had left her with the useless factors that had tagged along with what she had really longed for. Him.

But no, she wouldn't think of him. It hurt too much. She couldn't possibly bear it. Her eyes followed the extravagant painting on the ceiling of the gallery, somehow reaching the sculpture of all her pain again. Wanting to pull her eyes away from the sculpture and leave, she desperately tried to move, but found herself unable to pry her eyes away from the blankness of the eyes.

He had always been a mystery to many, but he had always been a different man with her. The way his gray eyes pranced with amusement as they waltzed across the ballroom in the manor. The way he had held her close to him as they watched the albino peacocks in the gardens as they sat by the bay windows.

Narcissa turned her head quickly, nearly snapping her neck. She had to get out. She shuffled quickly out of the room, shaking her head of the memories before stopping in her tracks.

Bach's Cello Sonata in G Minor. She could recognize that tune anywhere. She turned her head slightly to the charmed walls, standing in the middle of the gallery, silently.

They had first met to this piece. It had been the dream of her life, her floating in his arms as he led her firmly across the floors in his stunning black attire, his gorgeous hair pulled back with a piece of black ribbon.

They had played duets to this piece. She the piano, he the cello. The sun shining on his face as he was absorbed in his playing had always made Narcissa smile as she continued her piano part. His brows had been furrowed in concentration, yet his whole face was calm as it rarely was to the public view. He eyes were closed as he played the piece by heart.

The piece brought so many memories back to her. Narcissa slumped to the ground, her legs giving out beneath her. Tears fell to the exquisite carpet as her pale hands barely supported her figure. The piece's tantalizing notes brought Narcissa to gasp for breath as she shuddered at the pain the piece brought.

He had left her. He had left her to dwell in her own nightmares and in the icy hell of marble.

The piece came to an end with a reverberating last pitch. Too weak to move, Narcissa stared at the carpet, breathing shakily. She couldn't do this. She wouldn't do this. He wouldn't want her to.

He wouldn't want her to.

_**He**_wouldn't _**want**_ her to.

Smiling vaguely at a thought that had struck her, Narcissa recounted the dumb struck look on his face when she had told him that she was with child. She smiled even more as she remembered him hiding behind a couch before leaping out from behind it, roaring to a guffawing toddler Draco. Narcissa's fingers ran through the carpet as she was once again lost in her own memories.

No. She couldn't do this. She needed to stay in her own life. The past was the past. She had to let go.

But he had left her.

Alone.

Sniffling, Narcissa angrily dashed away at her wet cheeks. She wouldn't be weak. She would be strong. For him. And only for him.

Standing up slowly, she cast one longing look at the blank sculpture of Lucius Malfoy before walking out of the gallery, the haunting notes of the Cello Sonata still lingering in her head.

He hadn't left her. She had given up too soon on him. He was out there. He would be waiting for her.

And it was her job to not abandon him.

No, he had not left her, and no, he had not broken his promise.

He would be there with her eternally. He had never promised to be with her at all times physically. He had promised to be with her, To just be with her.

Making her way back to her room, Narcissa's dull blue eyes shone a bit brighter, and her walk was a bit lighter, as she ascended the steps.

Promises were meant to be kept.

And he would keep his.

He always did.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this one shot. If I get a lot of positive feedback, I may extend the story. My other story, Walking Back, is a bit slow in progress, but I promise not to abandon it. It just needs a bit more planning. Please review!

The one shot was a bit out of the blue, and I know the background story is not stated. That is for your imagination. I hope enough of the emotions I wanted to convey were portrayed. I had a hard time writing this as I am only fourteen, and haven't experienced such tragedy. However, I have always found Narcissa's and Lucius's relationship beautiful. Please comment. 


End file.
